


The importance of a negative answer

by emme



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1318831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emme/pseuds/emme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She did not lock the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The importance of a negative answer

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue and this is my poor, first (but not last, I hope) attempt to write something longer than "the cat is on the table". So... I'm really sorry for every stupid mistake I probably made.  
> Lots of love to my beta, Gy! <3  
> And lots of love to Jaime and Brienne! :)

«Who do you think you are? A knight? You’re just a stupid little girl.»  
Galladon heard the laughs before he set foot  on the soft sand of the beach. He had assumed that the place was empty, but now he could see his little sister and her homely, sweet face covered with sand and tears. She was on her knees and three older boys stood around her, with her little wooden sword in their hands, looking at Brienne like dogs looking at a kitten.  
He didn’t know them very well, they seemed to be about his age. Galladon came forward, Brienne’s small sighs seeping through his ears.  
«What are you doing?» he asked firmly. He was just a boy of eight, but he was the heir of Tarth and he deserved respect, especially from those three idiots that were hurting his little sister.  
They looked at him for a long, frightening moment, then they started to run: one of them dropped Brienne’s sword near the water’s edge, but he didn’t look back at Galladon.  
The heir of Selwyn Tarth wasn’t stupid, he knew that they didn’t run away just in fear of him, but mostly in fear of his strict father. But it didn’t matter, not when Brienne seemed unable to stop crying.  
Galladon joined her on the beach and sat beside her, looking at the deep blue water in front of them, waiting.  
The little girl stared at her own pale and freckled hands and she didn’t even try to look up at him, but finally she stopped crying and sniffled two times before calming herself down.  
«Did they hurt you?» he asked after a moment of quietness.  
«No, brother» her voice sounded a little bashful when she answered: «No, they didn’t.»  
«So, why are you crying?»  
«Because they said I can’t be a knight, they said I’m only a stupid little girl with a stupid little sword. Why they said such bad things? You made my sword and I love it, it is not s-stupid.»  
Galladon smirked a little, despite the fact that he tried not to, but his voice was firm when he asked: «What do you want to be, Brienne?»  
Her big blue eyes, full of unshed tears, glanced at him with curiosity: «I want to be a swordsman, the bravest swordsman in all the world!»  
«Does a swordsman cry?»  
«No, he doesn’t.»  
«And what does he do?»  
She stood up and reached for the wooden sword, and used her grey dress to clean it up.  
«A swordsman fights» admitted Brienne, quietly.  
Galladon nodded, full of love for that stupid little girl with her stupid little sword. «But maybe you’d prefer to be a good, old lady in your big, beautiful castle, with a long gown and a handsome husband...»  
He meant it as a joke, but oddly Brienne took his words seriously, because she looked at him with something new on her face, a new strength, a new hope.  
«No» she said, stubbornly, «no, I don’t».

***

Septa Roelle loved the little lady, even when she was compelled to shout at her in order to convince the girl to take off those horrible breeches of hers and put on a proper gown, like a proper lady.  
But Brienne of Tarth preferred to spend her time in the yard, with a sword in a hand and a shield in the other, and what could poor Septa Roelle do? The girl was growing up like a little savage, and her father seemed to be shamefully proud of that.  
«Oh, look at your face! It must hurt, my lady.»  
«It doesn’t, Septa Roelle, I think that what _I did_ to my opponent is quite worse than this little scratch...»  
«You are _bleeding_ , Brienne. On your poor face! Blood!»  
Those fierce eyes of hers looked up at Roelle when she tried to get closer, and the Septa stopped, intrigued by the girl’s resolute gaze, despite everything.  
«Yes, my poor face, indeed. I can’t be beautiful, nor pretty, nor even adequate, but I can be strong.»  
After a moment Septa Roelle put her hand on her shoulder.  
«Don’t you even want to try to be like other girls, my lady?»  
Brienne made a shy, little smile. Something  was sad on her face, but just for a moment.  
«No» she said, stubbornly, «no, I don’t.»

***

Ser Wagstaff was a proud man. And because of that, being defeated by a woman was more than embarrassing for him: he acted like he had lost his manhood, he looked at Brienne like he would have liked to kill her with his bare hands.  
Well, Brienne was strong enough to stop him and throw him to the dust... again.  
Selwyn looked at his ugly, sweet child proudly and with a hint of remorse for what she had become, what _he’d let_ her become.  
«Are you going to yield to a man one day, daughter?»  
Brienne was staring out of a window, looking at the sea, dreaming about wars, battles, knights, and a young prince named Renly Baratheon. Selwyn sighed, knowing the answer.  
«No, father» she said, stubbornly, «I’m not».

***

When he closed the door behind him the room became dark like a moonless night, but even if he hadn’t known that she was there, he would have heard her breathing  in the darkness.  
Jaime could still taste her flavour on his tongue, he could still see her impulsive run for the safety of her room, he could still feel his own bewilderment when she had freed herself from his embrace without even looking at him.  
But she did not lock the door.  
And Jaime decided to take that as a good sign.  
He found her after a few moments spent groping around, his good hand reached her shoulder and he realized that Brienne was against the wall and that she was warm, alive and that _she hasn’t locked the door_.  
 _I’m going to fuck her against this wall_ , he thought, breathless. _Fuck the honor, fuck the Gods, fuck her stupid little smile on her stupid shy face, I’m going to do it right now._  
Jaime put his lips on the freckled skin of her neck: he could feel her heartbeat under his tongue.  
«Jaime» she whispered, and his name in the dark sounded like a prayer.  
He didn’t stop himself, he didn’t even _try_ to stop himself, and pushed his body against her, feeling the warmth of Brienne skin under her tunic and her breeches.  
«Jaime, what are you doing?» she whispered again, her breath broken, her legs trembling, but he smiled on her cheek when he felt those big hands of hers crawling up into his hair.  
«I’m going to take your maidenhood, my sweet wench, or, if you prefer, I’m going to fuck you right here, because I don’t think I’ll be quite able to reach the bed in time.»  
She gasped in his ear, but Jaime didn’t move an inch and Brienne didn’t push him away.  
When he kissed her, she responded like when they fought: with rage, need and a deep desire to prevail on him. She was so different from Cersei that he found himself thanking the Gods for her big teeth, her homely face, her strong hands and, most of all, her sweet, incredible embarrassment, even now, in the deepest darkness, when Jaime couldn’t even see her astonishing blue eyes, even though he wanted to, he _really_ wanted to look intoBrienne eyes.  
«You can stop me now, if you want, Brienne. If you don’t say that you want me I’ll leave you,  I promise.»  
Her fingers stopped their lovely exploration of his hair and Jaime pulled back just a little.  
He waited, with the sound of her breath in his ears, _say it, you stubborn wench, I know you want it as badly as I do._ But the wench didn’t say anything at all, and Jaime waited for a long time, a time frankly embarrassing. _At least I’m not begging_.  
But he was begging, just a second after that thought: «Say _something_ , or I’ll leave.»  
The darkness was overwhelming around them and Jaime would have had a light, just a little one, just to see her eyes and understand what was passing through that stupid mind of hers.  
He sighed and left her body, making a small step backward. He was ready to go away, and to try to drown his desire in a jug of wine, when she reached out, dragged him into her again and kissed him, briefly and without any sort of kindness.  
«I yield» she said, stubbornly, «just... yield».

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and...comments are love. XD


End file.
